Survival

When God made the world, he made it of iron…built to last.

He put within it, a belly of fire, which burst and melted and crusted, so that beneath the calm and placid surface hid a whip of destruction.

As if to confound life, great storms, blazing sun, freezing cold, flood and famine swept over the earth;

and yet occasionally, but reliably, an overflowing of exquisite, sublime beauty made everything bearable.

Within this hostile garden, he made creatures which were soft, inside and out …who suffered and wandered….lost.

Perhaps we weren’t meant to survive. Could we be vermin hiding from extinction? Living in this beautiful place, we can’t stop fighting among ourselves.

We are greedy, selfish, vain, immoral, and murderous.

The earth shakes in violent spasms to purge itself of the tickling mite of humanity.

Even the winds try to sweep us off.

But then, there is love…small and fragile.

Poised to overwhelm the ugliness of life.

Tiny love…hesitant, innocent and vulnerable; still standing, against all hatred and fear.

Secret, quiet love.

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~ by theoxherd on March 1, 2012.

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